Whispers
by Initial A
Summary: They first chalked it up to her pregnancy. “Motherhood moods”, they called it; now, with Hajime toddling along behind his mother, the villagers turned their talk to his inability to handle a woman. Runner-up in Challenge Destiny's 'independence' prompt.


**Whispers**

**By: InitialA**

**Rating: PG**

**Universe: Cannon**

**Word Count: 599**

**Summary: They first chalked it up to her pregnancy. "Motherhood moods", they called it; now, with Hajime toddling along behind his mother, the villagers turned their talk to his inability to handle a woman.**

**Author's Note: Oh man, 599 words, I don't know how I managed that. Just one under the limit. XD Eh, just something to play with, hope you enjoy!**

She walked freely, something they couldn't understand. They whispered amongst themselves when they thought he couldn't hear; foolish humans, with their foolish ideas. He could do no more than dig new scars into his palm every time he heard the whispers, the rumors, the ridiculous notions of an uncivilized people criticize his beautiful, feisty wife.

She told him to ignore them, the one night he mentioned it. "You've been exposed to something different. My world is less confined. Even from what you told me of demon society, how much more advanced they can be, it's different. So don't bother with them, husband. They leave Sango and Miroku well alone."

The problem was, the taijiya and the bouzou weren't as flashy a pair. Yes, Sango tended to wield the real power around their home when she had a mind to, but they were still a product of their time. When she had to, as rare as it was, she bowed to her husband's will.

His wife, however, put up a fight. While he tended to egg her on more often than not, there were occasions when the fights were real. The villagers, while used to such displays some years ago, were now appalled that not only would Kagome _not_ bow to his will, she didn't care if it was a public affair or not. They first chalked it up to her pregnancy. "Motherhood moods", they called it; now, with Hajime toddling along behind his mother, the villagers turned their talk to his inability to handle a woman.

He didn't _want_ to handle her. She wasn't some mare to be tamed and mounted, fit for child-rearing and little else. He valued her independence. It mirrored his own, allowed her to understand when he needed to run, leap through the air, leave as much of his earthly ties behind as he could manage. He loved that she had a mind of her own—even more now that the beads he wore had been lifted of their enchantment—and wasn't afraid to tell him what she really thought of him. And since he had no problem returning the favor, he thought the exchange was fair.

He wished they could move away from the whispers, leave the village and raise their brood in solitude; he knew though, his wife was needed here. The old hag wasn't going to live through another winter, he would guess, and then the village would need a healer and someone to say the prayers for them in the shrine. Perhaps he could convince her to start training one of the younger girls in herb-lore and medicines, and they could leave one day, but that chance was small. Kagome would be happy with an assistant, but it would only devastate her to leave her friends and home behind.

Sighing, he slid down from their roof. The time for brooding was over. He smirked, and obediently knelt when Hajime caught sight of him; pudgy legs that weren't quite used to the motion made the short run, all the while Hajime screeching, "PAPA! PAPA!"

Kagome caught his eye when he stood. "Is everything alright?"

He put his arm around her. "I'm starving, wench. What's for dinner?"

"I don't know, I haven't decided yet," she said, only slightly annoyed.

"Wench," said Hajime obediently.

Kagome glared at her husband. "InuYasha…"

He ducked his head sheepishly as she scolded him about his mouth. The woman who lived nearby glanced at them disapprovingly. He saw, and gave her a look to mind her own business. Let them talk; he wouldn't have his woman any other way.


End file.
